


Forever

by Hellotvshowtrash



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV), the originals - Fandom
Genre: Death, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Loneliness, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellotvshowtrash/pseuds/Hellotvshowtrash
Summary: You and Elijah are in love for centuries, his family becoming your family over the years. Until something goes horribly wrong. Takes place in S1 of TO
Relationships: Elijah Mikaelson/You, Marcel Gerard/Rebekah Mikaelson
Kudos: 22





	Forever

1919

Immortal life was a bit drab without something to live for. For centuries, you had just that. A totally epic love. Someone to be with forever, adventuring, fighting, loving. Elijah had lit up your life like no other, he was the candle that brightened your darkness.

Until Mikael returned.

The Quarter was vibrant and full of life with news of the peace agreement between factions in the face of prohibition. Meetings held in secret at local speakeasies, jazz music, dancing, and drinking. You eyed your love from the dance floor as he talked with his younger brother and the Werewolf Queen, Lana, raising their glasses to newfound peace. Elijah turned to scan the room for you. He found you, dancing to the lively music. He smiled as you raised your hand, finger pointed in his direction, instructing him to come dance. He finished his drink and set it on the bar behind him, smirking as he glided over to you. He grabbed you by your waist, moving in sync with you and the music. Elijah Mikaelson spent his night getting lost in the movement of your hips.

~~~

The next morning, Elijah was gone, a box and note on the pillow next to you rather than his warm body.

“For tonight. xx” The note read. You picked up the box to find a diamond necklace with matching earrings. You smiled giddily as you eyed the shine of the necklace. It would go perfectly for your dress for the opera, “Les Huguenots”. Rebekah would be accompanied by Marcel, Niklaus with his new plaything, the Werewolf Queen from the previous night, and you and Elijah. Call it a group date. The Abbatoir was quiet in the mid-afternoon as you spent the day agonizingly passing time until the opera, doing your hair and makeup when the time came.

A knock at your door startled you from your concentration on your hair.

“One moment,” You called. You stood, adjusting your dress in the mirror. You turned to see a tall, blonde man you didn’t recognize standing in the middle of your room. Surprised, you took a step back. He was holding a decorated, carved wooden stake. He gave the smallest of fake smiles that looked devilishly familiar.

“Forgive me,” he said, his accent thick, “But I must use you.” He came toward you at an alarming speed. You threw your arms out in an attempt to protect yourself, but blackness and pain was the only thing that came next.

~~~

Consciousness came and went as you hung from the metal fence prop to be used by the opera cast that night. The man - who you had not learned the identity of - had dropped you down on top of the prop, impaling you through the stomach. Through your haze, you saw Marcel, unconscious, his body hanging limply, his hands and feet were tied to a large wooden torture prop. Your gaze moved as your head lulled back, eyes landing on the body of the werewolf queen, Lana, impaled on a large wooden stake. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears fell, unconsciousness taking over again.

The next time you woke was to the sound of laughter and fighting. Your eyelids parted to see the audience of the opera, cackling with laughter at the gruesome sight on the stage. You squinted, confusion taking over. You tried to move as pain ripped through your body. You saw figures fighting over Marcel, Klaus trying to free him as the man - who was he, why was he doing this? - attacked Klaus from behind. Rebekah ran from the right, trying to help Klaus free Marcel.

The man threw Klaus into another prop on the far end of the stage.

“Father,” you heard Rebekah gasp. Your head fell back as realization flooded over you. Mikael. He had found the Mikaelson siblings and would kill all of them, here and now. Where had Elijah been all day? Panicked, you tried to move again, desperate to help your loves’ family - your family. The pain was unbearable. It was then you heard Elijah’s voice.

“There’s no helping Marcel,” He grabbed his brother, gazing at Marcel with Mikael’s hand in his chest. A bright colour caught his eye, a deep and familiar red. Y/C/H hair on the other end of the dress, in just a position that he couldn’t confirm whether or not it was you, his love. The glint of diamonds caught the light as you fell limp again, the pain finally getting the better of you. A pit fell in Elijah’s stomach. “We must run,” were the last words you ever heard Elijah say, as he and his siblings ran from the opera house. If there was a god, you prayed that Elijah got out safely. Flames erupted from somewhere in the opera house, and you swore this was your end.

~~~ 

Present-day

That night lingers in your dreams every so often, even now, a century later. You had come to the conclusion that Mikael had gotten to them that night. Why else wouldn’t Elijah swoop in and save you?

Marcel had come to just before the flames took over, seeing you struggling to get free. He saved you that night. Not Elijah. Together, you and Marcel built an empire in New Orleans, years spent building what had burned. Allyships, enemies, pacts, and treaties. It was, in all ways, strictly platonic. You had formed a friendship with the man, some nights even spent drunkenly crying to him about what you both had lost that night. You were each other’s family now.

You left New Orleans in the late 1990s, feeling as though you had accomplished everything there was to do. Marcel stayed to rule what you had built together, but he always stressed to you that you had a home there, no matter what.

Travelling wasn’t what you remembered it being. When you were with Elijah, it was always filled with adventure and awe. Now, it was lonely, and you found yourself searching for something, or more specifically, someone.

Years ago in Rome, you saw a dark-haired man in a tailored suit and your heart skipped a beat. You grabbed onto his arm and spun him around. But, of course, it wasn’t him. You apologized to the man, as he scoffed and turned back around. The rest of your time in Rome was wasted in back alley’s, taking your anger out on unsuspecting tourists. Your humanity was killing you. Done with the hurt and the pain, you finally flipped your switch. Ripper Y/N was a force to be reckoned with.

You found yourself in New York, playfully stalking a poor soul in the dead of night when your phone rang. Growling, you took it out of your pocket, the phone lighting up your face in the darkness reading “Marcel”.

“What?” You put the phone to your ear as you watched your prey run to safety.

“You need to come home,” he said in a hushed tone, “there’s someone important here that you need to see.”

You scoffed. “No one in my life is important anymore.” These comments had become more and more frequent since you flipped your switch, but it stung Marcel nonetheless.

“I’m serious, Y/N/N. Come home. You wouldn’t believe who it is if I told you.” You heard him move away from the phone a bit, probably watching his surroundings. You rolled your eyes but decided to humour him.

“I’ll be there tomorrow. This better be good.” You hung up the phone, not waiting for his response. The veins around your eyes turned ashen and your eyes black as you hunted down another meal.

~~~

Walking down the French Quarter streets almost brought back fond memories for you. Almost. You made your way toward the compound to find Marcel, giving little notice to the walking food supplies around you. Mardi Gras was around the corner, and you would stick around town to have your fun then. Nothing better than booze, parties, and blood.

“Y/N!” Marcel greeted as you rounded the corner, arms outstretched.

“Marcel,” You greeted, “What brings me here?” You asked in a bored tone.

He dropped his arms in a defeated manner. “Good to see you too,” You rolled your eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I’ll show you. Let’s go.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text. You eyed him but followed as he walked out onto the street. You recognized where he was heading. The ol’ reliable of bars, Rousseau’s. A smile crept onto your face, glad to be getting a drink in your system soon. He turned to look at you and reciprocated the smile. “Just wait,” He said, leading you into the bar.

The bar was generally full, about as busy as you remembered it being every time you were there. You breathed in the familiar scent of the bar, catching a second familiar scent. You froze before you could exhale, eyes looking wildly around the bar. They landed on the beautiful blonde woman sitting there, watching you with a small smile on her face. Rebekah. Your eyes followed to her right, another blonde with a shit-eating smirk on his face. Klaus.

Something inside you changed, and you involuntarily flipped your switch back. The wind was knocked out of your lungs as you stared at the two Original siblings who were supposed to be dead. A tear fell down your cheek. Marcel pulled you by your arm toward them, gesturing the pretty blonde behind the bar for a shot or two.

Klaus raised his eyebrow, but his eyes shined. Rebekah was emotional as well.

“I thought you were- I swore, you and him and El-” you choked on the words as Rebekah pulled you into a hug, that you weakly responded to.

“I know, love. Us too. We couldn’t bring ourselves to come back because we thought we’d lost you both.” Klaus said from behind Rebekah. Rebekah released you and looked into your eyes.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N.” She smiled, brighter. You forgot how much your heart ached for your adopted sister over the years.

“I just, I need a second,” You gave a weak smile and walked out of the bar, pressing yourself against the brick wall outside. Covering your face with your hands, you slid down the rough bricks, gasping for air. You had to know if he was here, too. If he was alive, too. You pulled your head out of your hands, looking up and around the sidewalk as people walked by.

You could feel it, that he was there, somewhere. You don’t love someone for centuries and not know what their presence is like. You looked into the street and saw a figure facing you, hand in his suit pants pocket, looking at you from a distance. He hadn’t changed at all, except the suit was surely more expensive than any others he had owned in the previous years. He smiled a small, sad smile. You stood on shaky legs, not daring to take a step for fear of falling. You thought he was dead, but there he is, right in front of you on the street, smiling at you.

“Elijah?” Tears spilled from your eyes as he sped to you in an instant, inches from you now. He was ready to catch you at a moment’s notice. His scent filled your lungs as he looked down at you, taking you in. Your hand reached up to hover over his cheek, not daring to touch him.

“Y/N, I-” Before he could speak more, you silenced him with the flat of your hand, slapping him across the face. Surprise filled his eyes, unsure of what to do. You touched him for the first time in a century, and it felt good. You picked up a choked laugh from inside the bar, as you realized how close you were to the windows of Rousseau’s. Marcel had choked on his drink, laughing as he watched.

“How dare you.” You whispered. As if he knew this might happen, his eyes became more understanding, more guilty. “Years, Elijah. I thought you were dead, for years. Because you never came back for me.” He looked at the ground between you, taking a step back. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, debating on his words.

“I did, Y/N. I did come back for you,” He ducked his head but raised his eyes to meet yours. “A few decades after what happened at the opera house. I had to know if you were alive. I didn’t see Marcel, but I saw you, being a leader and thriving, and I couldn’t bring myself to put you in that same danger. You had healed and you were so strong. Mikael was still out there, and I knew he would use you against me, again. I couldn’t have that.” He talked of Mikael in the past tense, leading you to believe that he wasn’t a problem anymore. You shook your head, your eyes never leaving his.

“That doesn’t make it any better,” You said quietly, “I was mourning you and your family, my family. I was rebuilding what you had all worked so hard to create in the first place. Marcel and I rebuilt. This isn’t something you can just come in and take from us. He helped me over these years. He’s the one that saved me. I would’ve died if it wasn’t for him. Not you.” Those last words stung both of you. What little was left of your heart was cracking and breaking. A tear slid down Elijah’s cheek and you reflexively moved to wipe it away. Elijah’s eyes looked hopeful as your hand gently moved toward him, but you stopped yourself and hovered your hand over his cheek once again. You blinked your eyes as if shaking yourself from a trance and lowered your hand slowly.

“Y/N, please, let me spend forever showing you that I deeply regret not making myself known to you. Please.” He took your hand this time and kissed it, his eyes searching yours for your response. The picture of you limply hanging from the metal fence flashed in his eyes and guilt clouded him. You let him take your hand, desperately wanting him to keep kissing you.

“I need a drink,” You slouched and pulled your hand away, deciding to stand your ground in your anger. You turned and walked back into Rousseau’s where Rebekah and Marcel had started a tender conversation while Klaus was flirting with the blonde bartender. You plopped down next to Klaus and he looked at you, remorseful.

“A drink here for my friend please, sweetheart.” He winked at the bartender - her name tag read Camille - and she nodded, obliging his request. Elijah followed into the bar, sitting closer to Rebekah and Marcel to give you the space you needed.

“You should know, that it wasn’t just his choice to stay away. We had to run, Mika-”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, “He told me. Mikael, danger, blah blah blah,” you felt anger rising again, “but you all just left us here to die. I don’t even know if you saw me in the opera house, thanks to daddy dearest, I had a slight stomach problem.” Klaus’s eyes narrowed as you spoke, remembering that night. You saw that you had pushed some buttons. This encouraged you even more.

“I get it though, Marcel is like a son to you, so he takes precedence, but it would’ve been nice to know you held me in the same regard that I held you. Family. What’s that phrase? Ah, ‘always and forever’? You must have forgotten that you welcomed me int-” before you could finish, Klaus had his hand wrapped around your throat. You smiled a twisted smile and chuckled as his eyes darkened.

Elijah was behind him in a second, pulling him away. A few people’s gazes were drawn to the scene, but there was otherwise no public response. Camille came over, alarmed. “Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned for you. You turned and smiled sweetly at her. You looked deep into her eyes, compelling her.

“Everything is fine here. I’ll be taking that drink now, to go.” She nodded slowly and handed you the glass of bourbon she had poured. Klaus’ eyes hadn’t left you, but they softened and he waved Elijah off. He returned to his seat next to Rebekah and the entire group looked toward you as you gestured your head to the exit, beckoning them to follow.

~~~

“A bit vindictive, are we?” Klaus challenged upon arriving at the compound.

You softened at his words. This isn’t who you are. A century of anger and grief had built up in your chest, but this wasn’t how you wanted to reunite with the people you loved most. You turned to Klaus.

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, to no one in particular, but simultaneously to everyone in the group.

Rebekah shook her head and moved to stand by you. “No, Y/N, we should have returned sooner,” She glanced back to look at Marcel, regret thick in her voice. “We should have come back for both of you. We shouldn’t have left without you in the first place.” She took her hand in yours. Her words brought tears to your eyes, again. Klaus nodded in agreement. “It took years before any of us could even speak your names aloud. We thought you both dead.”

You and Marcel exchanged looks. He moved to stand with Rebekah, his arm wrapping around her waist. She smiled at him, but he hadn’t moved his eyes from you. “All Y/N and I have wanted is to know what happened to you guys. Personally, I’m just glad you’re all okay.” He stated.

You sighed and finally met Elijah’s eyes. He hadn’t stopped looking at you since the bar. He would never stop looking at you, not until he erased the image in his head of you in the opera house. His eyes were dark and anxious, desperate to know what was going through your head. Another tear ran down your cheek, you just couldn’t believe that he was here. That he was okay. In a flash you were to him, arms wrapping around his neck. Not missing a beat, his hands found their way to your waist, where they belonged. It felt like home. You hadn’t felt this safe in a very, very long time. He breathed a sigh of relief, pulling you in and squeezing you, taking in the scent of your hair.

“You promised me forever,” You whispered to him.

He nodded into your neck, “Forever I shall give you,” he whispered back.

You pulled away from the hug and kissed him, aching for him in every way. He kissed you back with the same urgency, matching your hunger. Getting lost in Elijah was just what you needed.

A cough came from behind you, interrupting your reunion. You blushed and pulled away, turning away from him. Klaus had both eyebrows raised, “I know we’re all happy to be reunited but please save the intercourse for somewhere more private.” He chuckled and walked toward the stairs, making his exit.

“If I have to wait-” Marcel wrapped his arms around Rebekah’s waist, pulling her in hungrily. “- so do you.” Rebekah giggled and turned to kiss him. You smiled warmly at them, knowing Marcel felt the same relief you did.

You turned back to Elijah, surprised to see him already looking down at you. He cocked his head to the side, his mouth curling up in a smile. He tugged at your waist, pulling you into him again, kissing you with a century’s worth of passion.


End file.
